


Tony Has Four Daddies (and One Mom)

by singingwithoutwords



Series: And Tony Makes Six [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Crack, Domestic, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Kidfic, Skinny!Steve, clint is a troll, coulson does not get paid enough for this, kid!Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4677584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwithoutwords/pseuds/singingwithoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PTA Night is usually a whoever's free thing. And between a college professor, an elite CIA agent, an Olympic archer, an internationally known model, and a very in-demand graphic artist, they're usually lucky if even one of them can make it without having to skip something else. This PTA Night is either going to be very, very good or very, very bad, because by some awful miracle... <i>all</i> of them are free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony Has Four Daddies (and One Mom)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/116603083006/imagine-your-ot5-having-a-child-whos-in-school) from OTP prompts, though (as usual) it spiraled just a bit out of control.

Tony (Romanov-Banner-Barton-Odinson) Stark-Rogers folded his hands under his chin, opened his eyes as wide as he could, and stared up at the adults gathered around him. He stuck his bottom lip out and let it tremble, just a little. When that didn't work, he added a small whimper, too.

Clint burst out laughing, burying his face in Bruce's shoulder to try and muffle the noise. Bruce sighed, patting Clint on the back.

“I almost wanna say yes,” Steve said. “I mean, he's putting in so much effort...”

“No,” Natasha said firmly, leaning down and kissing the middle of Tony's forehead. “Sorry, Antoshka- you can't come, and that is final.”

Tony's expression slid from pleading into a deep sulk, and he flopped backwards into the pile of pillows against the arm of the couch and crossed his own arms over his chest. “It's not fair,” he grumped, pouting. “It's my school, how come I can't go?”

“Because,” Steve said. “It's a meeting for parents and teachers, not parents, teachers, and kiddos. We have to go now- be good for Rhodey.”

“I don't _wanna_ be good for Rhodey!”

“Do it, anyway,” Bruce said, kissing the top of Tony's head. “We'll be back in a couple of hours.”

“And when we return, there will be pizza,” Thor promised, lifting Tony off the couch and hugging him just tight enough to make him flail dramatically and giggle before handing him off to Clint, who blew a raspberry in his stomach, then gave him a wet sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Steve took Tony from Clint and set him back of the couch, ruffling his hair. “We love you, kiddo,” he reminded Tony, before they all filed out to the van, leaving Tony with his babysitter while they headed into battle with the Triskelion Hill PTA.

Natasha parked the van neatly a few spaces away from the cluster of vehicles near the entrance and cleared her throat, drawing the collective attention of her boys. She loved all four of them dearly, but she also knew them very well, and some words of warning were in order here.

“I know we've all done this before,” she said, turning enough to be able to look all four of them in the eye. “But I know how you guys get when you mob together, so I'll make this very simple for you: _behave_ . When we leave tonight, the school had better be standing, with no structural damage, no wildlife loose in the hallways, no one having been carted away in an ambulance, and _not on fire_.” She glared significantly at Steve.

“It really _was_ an accident, I swear!” Steve protested, holding up both hands defensively.

“I'm sure it was,” Natasha said evenly. “Make sure it doesn't accidentally happen again.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Steve said, giving her his best hangdog expression.

Natasha smiled, leaning over to kiss him, then turned off the engine and unbuckled her seatbelt. “Let's go.”

All of them had attended at least one PTA meeting since Tony had joined their family, and Tony's teacher – a perky young woman named Daisy Johnson who insisted everyone call her Skye – gave them all a bright smile as they piled into the cafeteria, setting down her drink and hurrying over.

“Hey, you guys,” Skye said, giving each of them a hug in greeting. “How's Tony?”

“Pouting,” Steve reported. “He wanted to come with.”

“He just hates to be left behind,” she said, sighing. “Poor kid. Don't tell anyone I said this, but honestly, he'd be a more productive participant than some of the parents.”

Clint snorted, yelping when Steve elbowed him calmly in the stomach. “Hey!”

“We're supposed to be behaving,” Steve reminded him, the absolute picture of innocence, and only Natasha's warning look kept it from going any further.

“So,” Skye said, pretending not to notice, “all five of you at one meeting. Should I put emergency services on standby?”

“We’re behaving tonight,” Clint said.  Steve elbowed him in the stomach again.  “What was that for?”

“We’re _trying_ to behave,” Bruce corrected with an apologetic smile.  “It’s coming easier to some of us than to others.”

Skye laughed.  “I am _so_ glad I don’t have those two in my- oh, no.  Mr. Schmidt’s cornered Dr. Xavier again, I gotta go, see you guys later!”

They watched her run off toward the far side of the room, where vice-Principal Xavier was calmly facing down whatever rant Johann “my children are special you stupid cripple how dare you punish them for breaking rules” Schmidt was spewing, then turned their attention elsewhere.  The fewer witnesses to Skye’s counter-rant, the better.

There were already a few other parents and teachers gathered around one of the tables where the snacks were laid out. Those that knew them either waved or glared disapprovingly at them, depending on how they felt about a five-person polyamorous unit raising a child. They ignored the glares and split up to greet their friends and the parents of Tony's few friends (being two years younger than his classmates, he didn't have many).

Reed and Sue Richards had been friends of Howard and Maria Stark, and thus had known Tony all his life.  Their own son Franklin was as much of a prodigy as Tony, and they often had play-dates together in Reed’s labs.  They all loved Sue, but Bruce was really the only one capable of having a five-minute conversation with Reed, so it was left to him to go greet the couple and reassure them that Tony was fine.

Steve and Clint headed straight for Erik Lehnsherr, a sour police officer with twins a grade above Tony and a blindingly obvious crush on the VP that he thought no one else knew about.  He’d arrested both of them more than once, which somehow translated into them being good friends.  Natasha had long ago decided not to question it.

Thor descended on a tiny woman named Janet van Dyne, whose daughter Hope was in Tony’s class.  Tony insisted he was going to marry her because “she’s as smart as me and not even afraid of bugs or anything, so if I gotta marry somebody, I’d pick her”.

Of course, he said the same thing about the Lang kid in the other 4th grade class, but then who were his five adoptive parents to tell him he had to pick one or the other?

That left Natasha on her own.  And while she might ride herd on her boys about staying out of trouble, she could at least admit to herself that she could be just as bad.  But tonight she decided to be on her best behavior, and inserted herself into a conversation with Ms. Monroe, who taught first grade, and Miss Pryde, who taught art.

Not that she didn’t take the time to smile her smuggest at a few parents and teachers who’d pissed her off recently.  Just to unsettle them a little.

Principal Coulson let them mingle while more parents arrived, then called the meeting to order at exactly 6:30pm, and they all found seats.

“Firstly,” Principal Coulson said, “Thank you all for coming. Before we go over last meeting's minutes: as some of you know, Coach Rumlow quit rather suddenly last week.” His eyes didn't so much as twitch in Natasha's direction, but she didn't doubt for a second that he was somehow aware of exactly how many pieces she'd threatened to cut Rumlow into if he bullied Tony again. “Luckily, we were able to find a replacement quickly. I'd like you all to welcome our school's new head coach, Lance Hunter.”

The gathering clapped politely. Except for Clint, who clapped out 'fresh meat' in Morse code.

“Oi,” the man sitting by himself a few seats down from the teachers said, pointing at Clint. “Don't think you're clever.”

Clint grinned, signing some suggestions for what the man could do with a flagpole to better his disposition.

“You wanna have at it, Blondie?”

Coulson sighed. “Mr. Barton, you agreed to give new faculty a month before you started antagonizing them, remember?”

“How was I supposed to know he knew Morse Code _and_ ASL?” Clint asked innocently, yelping when Steve reached over and smacked him in the back of the head.

“Sorry, Principal Coulson- we'll keep him under control.”

“Or try to, at any rate,” Bruce added.

“That's all I can ask,” Coulson agreed with another sigh.

The meeting progressed in relative peace for about half an hour, aside from Clint and Coach Hunter making faces and signing vulgarities at each other, which everyone else politely ignored. The usual old ground got covered, the usual suggestions brought up and denied.

“We will not be introducing trial by combat for the debate team, Miss Lewis.”

“No, Mr. Fitz, the science department cannot have a pet monkey.”

“Whoever keeps filling the suggestion box for fundraiser ideas with 'stud auction', please stop it.”

“We aren't responding to your letters because we don't have a Grand Imperial Weenie on staff, Mr. Barton, and that's who you keep addressing them to.”

After that came the usual round of complaints and petty sniping from certain parties and far more patience than Natasha could claim from others.  Then came part two of the actual point of these meetings: socializing.

Which was how Natasha found herself by the snack table in eager one-sided conversation with a couple who’d just moved to the area.  As usual, they were just _fascinated_ by her private life, and laboring under the misconception that she did filing for the CIA.  If she didn’t have to set a good example...

“-and really, raising a child on top of all that?”  Mrs. Sawyer said.  “I can barely keep up with our little one and _one_ husband.  Your stamina must be impressive.”

Natasha made a noncommittal noise and glanced around for someone to save her before she sent one or both Sawyers headfirst into the punch bowl.

“Though I do have to wonder if that’s really the best environment to raise a child in,” Mr. Sawyer added.  Natasha somehow managed not to roll her eyes.  “It must be so confusing to him, not knowing who his real parents are.  I mean, obviously, you're his mother, but-”

“No, I'm not,” Natasha interrupted, turning slightly to speak over her shoulder. “Bruce is. Right, Bruce?”

“Yup,” Bruce answered without even glancing their way.

“And his father?” Natasha pressed, because the answer was always hilarious.

“Batman.”

A few feet away, Steve choked on his drink, sputtering and trying to laugh and cough at the same time. Clint did his best to rescue Steve from himself while also cackling like a hyena.

“Not Bruce Wayne, of course,” Bruce continued in a matter-of-fact manner, the way he gave his driest physics lectures. “Terry McGinnis. He's not really a part of Tony's life- not ready for the responsibility of a kid, I guess.”

The Sawyers stared at Bruce in open-mouthed shock, and Natasha took the opportunity to excuse herself to see how the others were holding up.

Thor was, as usual, surrounded by a bevy of admirers.  Small wonder, for a man who was paid exorbitant amounts of money to sit still and smile, and Natasha could hardly fault their taste.  Luckily, he was too sweet and down-to-earth to get a swelled head over it, and everybody knew that if Steve didn’t get you for trying to poach, it was only because he felt you deserved to be handed over to Natasha’s tender mercies.

Clint had, as usual, found someone who wanted to learn some basic signs.  He was fairly good-natured about the whole “oh my God you’re deaf teach me to do signs!” thing, but Natasha still made a mental note to rescue him soon.

That just left Steve unaccounted for, which was never a good thing.  An unsupervised Steve was almost as bad as an unsupervised Tony, though not _quite_ as destructive.

Natasha was on the verge of pulling Clint away from his students to help search when, not far behind her, she heard a scuffle.  Part of her didn’t want to know, because the other part was already certain she knew exactly what was happening.

She turned around and sighed, confirming that yes, Steve _had_ punched a teacher. Again. “Thor!”

Thor politely excused himself from his conversation and walked over, peeling Steve off the new coach with an indulgent smile.  “Calmly, beloved.”

“I’ll ‘calmly’ after I dent his face,” Steve replied, struggling even though everyone in the room knew he wasn’t getting away until Thor let him.

Couch Hunter laughed, adjusting his jacket.  “Geez, but you’re a touchy one,” he commented lightly.  “They oughta keep you on a leash.”

“What happened?”  Natasha asked with a sigh.

“Coach Hunter called him adorable,” Miss Pryde spoke up.  “Sorry, I wasn’t fast enough to intercept.”

“Nah, my fault- should've watched my mouth. 'Sides, not like he's got enough power in them twigs to actually hurt me.”

“I could take you,” Steve insisted, still squirming against Thor's unbreakable hug.

“You're just a dandelion fluff of righteous fury, aren't you?” Coach Hunter asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Clint slid to stand next to Couch Hunter, draping an arm over his shoulder. “Ladies and gentlemen: my new best friend.”

Coach Hunter looked Clint up and down, then shrugged.  “I could do worse,” he admitted.

“Come on, Thor,” Bruce said, appearing beside Thor and his still-fuming armload. “Let’s go get Steve some fresh air.”

Thor nodded, following Bruce off toward the door.  He was exactly as used to this as he seemed.

Coach Hunter watched them leave, shaking his head.  “You’re all insane,” he said flatly.  “I’m resigning.”

“That requires turning in your notice to Principal Coulson,” Skye pointed out.

Coach Hunter sighed.  “I’d really like to be drunk right now.”

“You and me both,” Clint said, laughing.  “I’d offer to bar-hop, but we’ve got a little menace to get home to tonight, and we owe him pizza.”

“Right, you’ve all got brats at home,” Coach Hunter said, patting Clint on the back and slipping out from under his arm.  “Least your chihuahua gave you a good excuse to escape.”

Clint laughed again.  “Oh, man, you are _so_ lucky Steve’s not here to hear that!”

Natasha smiled, grabbing the back of Clint’s shirt.  “We’ll be going now.  It was nice to meet you, Coach.”

“Same.  Enjoy your madhouse.”

“Thank you- I intend to.”

 

* * *

 

Tony was waiting anxiously in the foyer, bouncing slightly on his toes.  He was not wearing the same shirt he’d had on when they left, and his hair was damp and sticking up every which way, but there was no smell of smoke, so whatever he’d done that required a bath and a change of clothes probably hadn’t done much if any structural damage.

“Welcome home,” Tony said, attaching himself to the nearest warm body, who happened to be Thor.  He was picked up and passed around for a round of hugs and kisses, then placed back on his feet in front of Steve.

“So what did you do?” Steve asked conversationally.

Tony looked down at the foyer tile.  “I mighta maybe sorta made a mess?”

“What kind of mess?”  For all his short temper and easily-bruised pride, Steve was always gentle with Tony.

“Don’t be mad at Rhodey?”

“I won’t be mad at Rhodey,” Steve promised.  “What happened?”

Tony nodded and took a deep breath before launching into a hurried explanation.  “I kinda found a kitty that I was keeping in the shed but then it was supposed to get cold tonight so I sorta snuck out while Rhodey was busy but I’m not real good at kitties I guess and it kinda knocked over some stuff in the laundry room and I guess the lid wasn’t on the soap all the way and now we’re all outta soap for laundry and also soap is really hard to clean up and Rhodey says maybe I mighta ruined the mop and please don’t kick the kitty out ‘cause it was my fault and it really is supposed to be cold out and-”

“ _Breathe_ , Tony,” Steve interrupted.  “We’re not mad, and we won’t kick the kitty out, okay?”

Tony looked up through his damp bangs.  “Promise?”

“Promise,” Bruce said.  “Where’s Rhodey?”

“Right here,” Rhodey himself answered, stepping into the kitchen doorway.  “He wanted to tell you himself.”

“Where’s the cat now?” Natasha asked.

“Downstairs bathroom.  I kind of cobbled together a litter box.  Luckily, she didn’t get much soap on herself, so I didn’t need to try and bathe her.”

“Thank you,” Natasha said, pulling out her wallet.  “Since cat-sitting wasn’t on the chore list, you get a bonus.  Do you need a ride home?”

Rhodey shook his head, accepting his pay for the night.  “I’m gonna crash at a friend’s down the road,” he said.  “I’ll just grab my stuff and go.”

Once Rhodey was gone, with a parting hug for Tony, Bruce sat down to go over Tony’s homework.  Steve and Thor piled back into the van for a kitty supply run.  Clint went to inspect the damage to the laundry room while on Pizza Watch, and Natasha went to the downstairs bath.

Everything on the counter had been knocked over.  There was a baking pan of sand wedged next to the toilet.  The kitten itself was crouched wide-eyed on the back of the toilet, a matted half-grown white thing with luminous blue eyes.  Poor kitten must be scared out of its mind- no wonder Tony had wanted to take care of it.

The pizza beat Steve and Thor home, but not by much.  They sat down for a family dinner, then got Tony ready for bed and tucked in.  Steve, following instructions from the pet store employees, got a proper litter box and a few hidey-holes set up, then they all piled into their Alaska King and settled down for the night.  Natasha had to be in the office at 5am, which meant the talk about a pet being a big responsibility and was Tony _sure_ he could handle it would fall to one of the others.

She wished them luck with that.

 


End file.
